


Never meant to cause you trouble

by DisasterSoundtrack



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Destiel - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 09:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2344172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisasterSoundtrack/pseuds/DisasterSoundtrack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You smile and it hurts. It hurts so much you want to scream. You smile, but you’re so broken behind it. Nobody knows, and they never will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never meant to cause you trouble

_You smile and it hurts. It hurts so much you want to scream. You smile, but you’re so broken behind it. Nobody knows, and they never will._

*

Dean Winchester is like an open book and I’ve read all of the pages. Every single feeling, every thought, everything the hunter refuses to talk about is written all over his face. It’s in his moves, in the tone of his voice. In the little moan when he says ‘Cas’ out loud. There is so much more about Dean than he admits.  
  
Dean has freckles. Once, after a busy night of research, he fell asleep on Bobby’s couch at 4 am. I happen to not sleep at all, so I’ve tried counting them. The early sun was dancing on his face and I was feeling warm, warmer than an angel should. It worried me, but I realized Dean also has freckles on his hands and, somehow, that made everything alright.  
  
Dean would go the end of the world and further for Sam, sure. But every time he sees his brother drinking beer in some cheap motel, watching late night TV or preparing weapons for another hunt, he feels like he’s drowning. Because it’s not the way it should be. Nobody knows that Dean’s biggest dream is to be a groomsman on Sammy’s wedding. To see his younger brother happy.  
  
Dean knows that this might never happen.

*

The freaking angel stares at me as if he knew my soul. Maybe he does? He did, in fact, grip me tight and raise me from perdition.  
  
"Dude, my eyes are gonna burn out."  
  
"Sorry." Castiel tilts his head a little and there’s something dirty in the way he looks now. I try to imagine him without the holy tax accountant disguise and I fail miserably.  
  
"Do you ever take off the trenchcoat? Or the overcoat, whatever?"  
  
He frowns. It’s kind of adorable when he gets confused, and he’s been confused a lot lately.  
  
"I don’t think this is of import here, Dean. I came to tell you about the purgatory, so you might as well pay attention."  
  
I listen, but unexpectedly I feel like checking him out, so I do. Cas has got blue eyes, with unhealthy fire burning inside of them. His mouth moves fast, his hands are subtle and smooth, as if they were carved of stone by a talented artist. His hair would look better a bit more dishevelled.  
  
"Are you listening to me?" There’s accusation in his voice, so I run a hand over my face and say I’m tired, sorry, long day, too much booze, so maybe we can talk about this tomorrow.  
  
I hear a flutter of wings and he’s gone in a second, no goodbye, just the usual disappearing without a warning.  
  
If I could do anything to untangle myself from this absurdity, I wouldn’t hesitate a minute.

*

Hunting a shapeshifter, I’ve learned, is never fun nor easy. My ears are still full of Bobby’s tortured screams, Sam is covered in blood and I can barely see, the dizziness never stopping. All of my powers are suddenly suppressed, but someone helps me up, slaps me and then I know it’s Dean.  
  
"Come on, Cas, you gotta help me. Come on, please, he might be back any minute."  
  
His words bring me back to reality. We manage to trap and decapitate the shifter, Bobby unties himself and I cure most of Sam’s wounds.  
  
It’s not that bad. We head to Bobby’s, all of us quiet and tense in the Impala, except for Sam, who moans quietly in pain.  
  
"Motherfucking shifter, am I seriously that bad in a fight or was it really an alpha?"  
  
Bobby thinks it was, but we’ll have to do some more digging to make sure.  
  
At Bobby’s, they numb Sam with alcohol and painkillers. I just watch Dean move around the house, when he casts me a look, bites his lower lip and promptly leaves through the back door. I follow him, not sure what it means, if it means anything.  
  
I find Dean leaning against his car and staring into the night sky, collar of his jacket up. He sees me walking towards him and something about his posture and expression changes. I take another step forward and then I’m dragged forcefully into his arms, my chest against his, one last fiery, angry glance.  
  
Dean Winchester kisses me.  
  
I have no idea how to do it properly, so instead of just standing there, I’m trying to _be_ there. I respond to the movements of his lips. He moves one of his hands to mess with my hair, so I find the other one and entwine our fingers. I can taste the whiskey on his tongue. All of it feels incredibly good. Still, I don’t know if I’ve done this right.  
  
Dean breaks the kiss with a loud moan, not meeting my gaze. He grabs the lapels of my coat for a second, breathes raggedly and walks away, just like that.  
  
This time, I don’t follow him. I’m sure he wouldn’t want me to.

*

_All of the beasts of the universe are on the loose. The inevitable disaster is lurking around your corner and the best you can do is kiss Castiel in the middle of Singer Salvage Yard? You must have lost your sanity somewhere between Heaven and Hell._

*

Few weeks later, more blood, more pain and even more disappointment, I’m pretty certain that I’ve chosen the wrong way of escaping. The music in my car is loud, almost deafening, it’s _Sweet Child O’Mine_ and Cas is in the passenger’s seat, head tilted back, knuckles pale.  
  
‘"Get in the car", I told him before and saw something raw and unreadable in his eyes. He obeyed; maybe for a tiny second I wished he didn’t, but there is no turning back now. I don’t know where this thing is going, I don’t really want to know. I’m in a car with my guardian angel, my teammate, my friend.  
  
I take a turn into the woods and stop after about three minutes. I get out of the Impala only to open Castiel’s door, wait for him to step out too, then push him against the car and kiss the fuck out of him. Getting a bit impatient, I suggest we get in the backseat.  
  
It’s a pretty show of confusion on his side, but he does it anyway. For another minute I forget everything, everything but him. I notice Cas’s hands are trembling and suddenly it comes home to me- he is practically a child. Zero knowledge about how the world of tiny little humans works, almost zero experience, and I know I’ve been scaring him lately. The trenchcoat and the tie are already off, my almost lover’s breath is hot against my neck and I feel like such a bastard.  
  
"I swear, I won’t do anything you don’t want to. Just tell me, Cas. Just a word."  
  
He smiles and rolls his eyes a little, arms tight around my waist.  
  
"I just wish you would stop talking", he whispers, and kisses my neck avidly.  
  
For quite a long time I had a feeling Castiel would be great in bed. Damn, his gravelly voice alone. His hands. His body, finally without a suit.  
  
I show him everything. I teach him how the world works. I take him all the way there, in the backseat of my car.  
  
I can still pretend it doesn’t mean a thing.

*

A lady in her mid-thirties is sitting on the couch across from me, wiping tears with a rim of her sleeve, still sobbing quietly but offering us homemade pie anyway.  
  
"Please, have some. I couldn’t sleep, so I baked all night."  
  
Sam politely refuses, but Dean grabs a plate and takes a bite of the pie.  
  
"It’s delicious, Susan. Almost as good as my mom’s."  
  
Susan, a woman whose husband has been kidnapped by a werewolf (but she doesn’t know it yet), smiles through her tears.  
  
Sam and Dean are wearing suits today. We are "investigating". Basically, it means deceiving people we are FBI agents, showing them fake badges and asking well-articulated, unsuspicious questions. I guess wearing suits also matters, since it adds to the image of professionalism.  
  
"So, Susan, have you noticed anything in your husband’s behavior lately that struck you as bizarre?", asks Sam.  
  
"No, agent Bonham. Just the usual, you know…"  
  
Sam takes some notes while Dean is devouring the pie. He acknowledges my look and taps my knee. I startle.  
  
"You want some, agent Plant?"  
  
To say Dean is acting strange and unlike himself these days would be an understatement. He’s offering me pie, but it appears as if he’s asking me if I would die to save him. This, I would.  
  
"Yes, agent Page. Just a little, thanks."  
  
The other night we find Susan’s husband’s body ripped to shreds.

*

_You have no faith in yourself. You have toyed with destiny so many times it really should be the other way around. It’s not and there’s nothing you can do. And you hate, hate being hopeless. It doesn’t take long for your instinct to turn on and suddenly you want to protect Cas, you want to be sure nothing bad ever happens to him. You would like to lock him in the panic room, the vulnerable, innocent angel he is, even though his innocence has been stained, torn apart and then stepped on, and then you would like to give him back everything he’s lost because of you. But you can’t trust yourself even with that._

*

Being completely honest with myself, I have to admit Cas is an attractive man. He twists, he turns and he doesn’t need a gun to make the enemy whimper on the floor, since a touch of fingers is enough. I try to stop the flow of images under my eyelids like a movie: Cas taking off his tie and sliding his fingers under my t-shirt, Cas opening his lips, smiling just a tad when I whisper dirty things to him, those few steamy nights with no morning-after, Cas giving me head in some gas station restroom.  
  
Now, he’s wiping the blood from his temple, "We can go now, it’s done here", stepping over dead creature’s body and off he goes.  
  
Castiel, the angel of Thursday.

*

Sometimes Dean bites me, leaving marks in various places of my body. It’s my body now, not my vessel. Jimmy is long gone and I know it for certain, may he rest in peace.  
  
Dean Winchester is a ferocious lover. He’s got my handprint on his arm and I have bite marks, so I guess we’re even.  
  
We never talk about it, actually we don’t have conversations concerning anything that might be happening between us. Dean deals with it with a shrug, brushes it off casually. He goes to great lengths not to look me in the eyes. Also, he doesn’t kiss me on the lips anymore. When I try, he’s completely passive.  
  
Still, we do keep on having sex, wild, shameless, unforgiveable.  
  
This time Dean is the one who’s not really there.

*

I’ve taken this too far and now there’s no way back without collateral damage. Not that there ever was.  
  
I would bash my head against the wall at night, but Sam is sleeping in the other bed, recently all focused, positive and full of energy, at peace with the life we live.  
  
The never-ending fucking road trip. The search for blood. The killing spree. The "lose two, gain one".  
  
I go to the bathroom and consider drowning myself in the shower.  
  
"What are you doing, Dean?"  
  
"Jesus, Cas! I could’ve had a heart attack, you know." I turn and he’s standing right behind me, leaning on the door, staring right into my eyes. So I stare back and feel like dying, bursting into tears, going crazy. Castiel’s eyes are icy blue and I’m thinking, for what it’s worth, I’m the one who’d broken him.  
  
"Is there anything wrong?", he inquires, face tense, arms folded.  
  
"I don’t know, man, maybe I’ve reached the point where I’ve seen too much, done too much and I can’t do it any longer? Maybe, just maybe, I want it over with?"  
  
Cas seems hurt for some reason. The only thing I want now is for him to step ahead, wrap his arms around me and make me forget, because I can’t make a damn move.  
  
"I understand", he says, and then he’s gone.

*

_You don’t even get a chance to watch it fade away. You simply watch it go straight to hell._

*

If Dean Winchester wants me gone, I’ll be gone.

*

Sammy sits next to me on a motel bed and hands me a beer. For a couple of minutes we drink in silence, but I’m sure it won’t last.  
  
"What did you do to him that he hasn’t shown up for so long?"  
  
This gets me utterly off guard.  
  
I’ve spend several nights praying. I’ve begged Cas to come back, I swear I did. I reduced myself to dirt, I’d probably lick his shoes if he asked me to, I talked to the sky, to the ground underneath my feet, to a cold window and to my amulet, and then I took back everything I said because I got no response.  
  
"What the hell are you talking about?"  
  
"C’mon, Dean. I’m not dumb or blind, I know you and Cas had a thing. Or whatever. And I know something must have happened. You’re my brother. You’ve been a shadow of yourself lately."  
  
I hate it, I hate it when Sam has the point.  
  
"He will be back", Sam touches me gently on the shoulder and tries to smile.  
  
"You suck at cheering people up, you know? Let’s just don’t mention it again, okay?"  
  
"Fine, if you don’t want to."  
  
My younger brother shrugs and downs his beer. I turn the TV on.  
  
Anything to numb myself.

*

I remember not only Dean rejecting me. I remember the good things, too. Like him sharing pie with me, or buying me a bag of burgers. Like the one time we were laying among damp sheets together and he was telling me about when he was little and his mom used to tell him that the angels are watching over him, and then he fell asleep in my arms. Like that evening when I told him I hardly feel like an angel anymore, because sometimes I’m hungry or sore or tired, and then he said "Stop bitching, Cas", and kissed me. Or than one time when I told Sam to shut the hell up and Sam just looked at me, baffled, but Dean laughed for about fifteen minutes.  
  
His desperate, angry prayers have gone quiet now. I remember the good things, too, so I decide I might as well check how he’s doing.

*

I’m alone at Bobby’s, searching the fridge for something edible. Sam is hunting with Bobby, I’m in charge of the research. They’ve been gone three days now, but Sam keeps calling me so I know they’re fine. I can’t find any food other than a bag of crisps. Great, now where’s beer?  
  
"Hello Dean."  
  
"I be damned." Castiel is standing in the doorway, his expression like he’s afraid what will my reaction be. I almost run those meters of distance between us, close my arms around him and hug my angel, lost and found.  
  
"Son of a bitch, where have you been?"  
  
Cas responds to the hug awkwardly, patting my back.  
  
"Here and there."  
  
"Haven’t you heard me praying? Because God knows I have prayed, you could’ve at least given me a sign."  
  
"But then you took it all back!"  
  
My anger slowly releases itself, like air escapes from a pinched balloon.  
  
"You’re such a child sometimes, seriously."  
  
"So you want me back, then?" He still doesn’t get it, it’s unbelievable.  
  
"You know what I want, Cas? I want some peace. I want peace for Sam, I want peace for me, and for you."  
  
"My peace is with you, Dean Winchester."  
  
A wave of warm, late summer wind flows through the kitchen. This time my eyes are surely going to burn out, because I can’t take them off Cas.  
  
"And that’s why it’s so messed up."  
  
I grab him by the tie, pull him closer and kiss, like I should have done a long time ago.  
  
It’s softer this time. It’s Bobby’s kitchen flooded with afternoon sun, the smell of the trenchcoat and angel’s hair. It’s his delicate hands on my neck, and then out foreheads interlaced gently, Castiel’s breath short and heavy just as mine.  
  
"You haven’t done it for a while." He means kissing, he means that special kind of closeness and I can hear bitterness hidden in this statement.  
  
"I know, and for that I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, you have no idea."  
  
"Maybe I should just leave you alone, so that you could be at peace."  
  
"No." I hold onto his forearms. "I’m not letting you go just like that, not anymore, you hear?"  
  
"Okay". Okay, he says, and smiles, laying his head on my shoulder. This is absurd, holding him like this when everything is alright at last, when in the morning I was sure he’s never coming back.  
  
I feel Cas’s hand sliding under my shirt and touching my lower back.  
  
"Getting little kinky here, are we?"  
  
"I missed you, Dean", he claims with accusation and leaves me with no option other than kiss him again.

*

 _You might have no faith, but sometimes miracles happen. And not only to other people, but to you as well. You can’t seem to stop smiling, and laughing, and apologizing to your guardian angel.  
_  
_"Let’s get this straight, Dean, you are difficult sometimes…"  
_  
_"I’m a dick most of the time. And I suck at talking about certain feelings, but I do have certain… feelings for you, just so you know."  
_  
_"The certain feelings are mutual."  
_  
_But then you stop talking because it’s hard to talk while having loud reunion sex on the kitchen table._

*

The world is big, open and terrifying, beasts are still out there and I can’t predict not only tomorrow, but even the next hour.  
  
None of it is important when I have Dean Winchester asleep by my side.


End file.
